It Must be Hereditary
by thearchedlook
Summary: After an awful night at work, Ranka wakes up with a muddled brain and finds a strange boy in their home.


Fujioka Ryouji (also known as Ranka) stared blearily at the mirror.

At first he thought it was the bathroom's poor lightning, but upon closer inspection, he realized that the hag staring in front of him was... well, him.

His face was a far cry from the empowered woman that he chose to portray. His face was no longer beautiful and radiant, his makeup had faded, his stubble was already becoming visible, and most of all, his eyes showed that he was tired and dead beat.

No wonder everyone in the Okama bar steered away from him. Why, he looked dreadfully hideous!

Despite gulping down an aspirin before going off to work, his migraine seemed to intensify as the night wore on. The manager, who may have noticed him massaging his temples constantly with hopes of keeping the throbbing pain at bay, advised him to take off early and rest. Grateful for Kiora's sympathy, Ranka wasted no time and made his way home.

'Maybe someone's bullying my precious daughter in her new school,' Ranka thought, applying night cream on his now supple and clean face. 'Haru-chan's probably not aware it, but I think she's diverting her stress to me.'

With one last look for fine lines and wrinkles over the mirror, Ranka padded towards his bed and slipped under the covers. He willed himself to clear his mind from everything and within ten minute's flat, he was asleep.

Ranka was startled awake by the cacophony of crashing plates outside his room. He muttered under his breath crankily, thinking that the commotion came from the neighbor's or better yet, plates were raining down from the sky.

A moment later, he heard his daughter's anguished voice resonate inside their modest apartment unit.

'No, Tama-chan! Don't!' Haruhi shouted and Ranka's parental instincts kicked in to full alert.

There were sounds of struggling coming from the direction of Haruhi's room. His blood curdled, furious at the punk who had the nerve to burst into their place and attack his precious daughter.

Indifferent to the pain, Ranka stepped over the remains of broken plates scattered everywhere in the main area of the apartment. He didn't even notice the overturned table and the wasted food staining the tatami mats; his mind was solely focused on coming to his daughter's aid.

He wrenched open the door, ready to pound the intruder's face into a pulp.

But there wasn't a space alien, a leering pirate, or an overweight thief in black tights.

Instead, standing in middle of Haruhi's disarrayed bedroom, was a strange, young boy.

Ranka blinked his eyes blearily and looked closer.

Though his back faced him, Ranka could tell that the boy looked decent. He carried himself well with his pricey dark slacks and blue coat. But despite the boy's seemingly harmless appearance, Ranka put his guard up. One can never be too sure what was going on inside their twisted, little minds, he thought.

'You –' Ranka grabbed the boy's shoulder and whirled him around. The boy's eyes widened in surprise and said the weirdest thing.

'Dad,' the boy said, and Ranka stared in awe-struck wonder as his voice sounded exactly like Haruhi's. If Haruhi had an identical twin brother that he wasn't aware of, this boy standing in front of him _was_ him.

'Dad,' the boy repeated exasperatedly. 'It's me!'

Ranka felt like a worm – he didn't even recognize his own son. Heck, he didn't even _know_ that he had a son! He placed his hand over his heart as if he could catch the little, jagged pieces breaking apart.

'Haruhi, Dad,' the boy answered softly, and then his brow crinkled in confusion. 'Don't you remember your own daughter anymore?'

Ranka gasped aloud and grasped the boy's shoulder to hold him in place. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the boy skeptically. 'Haruhi?' he tried out, while looking at the person facing him from head to toe.

The young boy – who dared to claim that he was his daughter – nodded in confirmation.

Ranka circled him critically. After one full round, he tipped his head to the side and pursed his lips. 'Oh really? Then who was that guy attacking my daughter? His name was… hmm, Tama-chan, I think?' he said cattily, looking pointedly at the boy himself.

The boy giggled happily despite the intimidating demeanor that Ranka exhibited. 'Tama-chan is a cat, Dad. Look.'

At the boy's urging, they crouched together and looked under Haruhi's bed where an orange cat was licking its paw in satisfaction.

'He's Mimi-chan's secret pet,' the boy explained. 'I wasn't aware that he followed me home when I went next door to return Noda-san's shrimp platter. Tama-chan surprised me when he jumped over the table and swiped my breakfast in a flash. I tried to get a hold of him but he snuck inside my room to eat his ill-gotten gains.'

As they straightened, Ranka gave the boy points for researching thoroughly – he nearly fell for it. But, he thought…

'…if you are Haruhi, then why are you dressed like that?' Ranka gestured the outfit: black pants and single-stripped tie and blue coat. It looked awfully similar to Ouran Academy's uniform – for the _male_ students, that is.

'Ah, this,' the boy smoothed the lapels of his uniform. 'Someone in school pegged me for a guy,' he responded, amused. 'But I don't mind, though – the girl's canary uniform is a magnet for strange looks. Wearing this outfit's not so embarrassing when I'm commuting to and from school and –'

'Oh, my daughter!' Ranka cried out suddenly in the middle of Haruhi's explanation. It may have been the logic, the explanation, or the morning light flooding brightness into the room – who knows? – Ranka's eyes suddenly watered dramatically in recognition. 'I thought your life was in danger!' He embraced Haruhi tightly and tried to smother her with kisses. But with Haruhi getting better at blocking her father's overenthusiastic displays of affection, Ranka made do with the tight hug alone.

'Stop it, Dad,' Haruhi mumbled under the smothering embrace. 'I'm going to be late for school.'

'Eh? But it's still so early!' Ranka complained.

'Well, since Tama-chan ate my breakfast, I figured I'm going to drop by somewhere and eat before going to school. So please, Dad – let go already!'

After Ranka finally surrendered his hold over his daughter and bade her off to school, he lured Tama-chan out with a bowl of milk and returned him, safe and sound, to the worried little girl next door. He cleaned the mess in the main room afterwards, wondering all the while who could've been that person who mistook his daughter for a boy. That person immediately became the recipient of Ranka's ire, because now, Haruhi was going to dress up as a boy during her entire high school life.

It seemed like it was such a crime, he thought, to dress up his precious daughter in boyish outfits. But despite that train of thought, Ranka couldn't deny that cross-dressing really _does_ run in the family. He couldn't wait to tell his relatives that the next generation had already began the tradition.

The End.

**Notes:** I read somewhere that 'Tama' is a common Japanese name for cats. I remembered this bit of info yesterday and that's what prompted me to write this fic.


End file.
